


unexpected

by civillove



Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [72]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: 30. “That was unexpected.”--Blaine’s angry.He’s angry and he feels like it’s important to mention that he doesn’t get pissed off very easily. It’s always a buildup, a slow drawl, a ladder that usually never reaches the top. He doesn’t allow himself to get mad because it’s futile—what does being angry do anyways? When he gets mad, he often cries, mostly because he’s so frustrated he doesn’t know what else to do.People confuse that reaction, they pity him, they try to comfort him because of his wide, hazel doe eyes and big curls and that somehow makes him even angrier than he was in the first place.So being angry? It’s pointless.He just bottles it and pushes it down and gets over it, because that’s what’s easier.With most things? He’s able to do this.With Sebastian? Not so much.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: seblaine prompts from tumblr [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/82780
Kudos: 67





	unexpected

Blaine’s _angry._

He’s angry and he feels like it’s important to mention that he doesn’t get pissed off very easily. It’s always a buildup, a slow drawl, a ladder that usually never reaches the top. He doesn’t allow himself to get mad because it’s futile—what does being angry do anyways? When he gets mad, he often cries, mostly because he’s so frustrated he doesn’t know what else to do.

People confuse that reaction, they pity him, they try to comfort him because of his wide, hazel doe eyes and big curls and that somehow makes him even angrier than he was in the first place.

So being angry? It’s pointless.

He just bottles it and pushes it down and gets over it, because that’s what’s easier.

With most things? He’s able to do this.

With Sebastian? Not so much. 

That man somehow reaches under his skin and pokes and prods until he’s seeing red; until he’s so annoyed there’s fresh tears stinging his eyes and he’s ready to hit something. Blaine’s also not a natural fighter, he likes hitting the punching bag every so often, but it’s never about something malicious. He enjoys feeling strong, working out, moving his feet in a way that feels like a pointed dance.

But it’s not about picturing a face before throwing a punch.

Sebastian sometimes makes him want to do that; to throw his fist and let the pain sing in his knuckles and bring back some sort of balance.

This is one of those times, except Sebastian’s not even _here_ and that’s the problem. He’s told him time and time again that when the weather is bad, he needs to text him when he leaves work so he can figure out the projected time. The snow this season has been a mess, instantly clogging up streets and sidewalks and making traffic the _worst._ New York always runs on high, a million miles an hour, the city doesn’t sleep or take its time even when the weather should force it to do so.

Blaine worries.

He’s been in a few bad accidents before, he watches the news too often—so many careless people driving too fast and not watching where they’re going. Sebastian’s a fast talker, fast hands, fast driver, personality wound in going too hard, too impatiently. He knows he wouldn’t do that when the weather was questionable but that does nothing to douse his road rage; especially when he’s reacting to other fast drivers.

He runs a hand over his forehead as he paces in the kitchen, trying not to glance across their living room to the snow coming down in big, fat flakes. This isn’t what the weather team was calling for, not that they know how to do their jobs anyways, but New York isn’t prepared for the sudden onslaught of winter weather. It’s colder out too, so ice is also going to be a problem.

Sebastian left work two hours ago and nothing. No text, no call, not picking up when Blaine tries to contact him. A small voice in the back of his mind says that’s a good thing; that he’s concentrating on the road and driving safely.

But that doesn’t stop him from wanting to hear his voice, to know he’s okay.

“He’s fine,” Blaine says to himself. “He’s going to be just fine. He’s going to come home, unscathed, and then I’m going to kill him.”

As the last part of his sentence leaves his mouth, the front doorknob to their apartment begins to jostle and Blaine holds his breath for a long moment as Sebastian unlocks it and steps inside. He looks exhausted and cold, covered head to toe in frost and melting snow. He swallows, eyes grazing over his body to make sure he’s not hurt.

His boyfriend sets his briefcase down, toes off his boots and takes his coat off to hang it up by the door before turning to see Blaine. His eyes settle on him, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish because—

“Alright, I know what you’re about to say but…you’re so cute when you’re angry.” He grins, which makes his blood quite literally _boil_ in his bloodstream.

Blaine stalks right up to him, fingernails digging into his palms and—

He presses himself up on his toes and kisses him. It’s not very pleasant, tongue and a bit of teeth, desperate in a way that he rarely allows himself to be. But it’s there and intimate and heated.

Sebastian blinks when he manages to pull back and Blaine can feel his cheeks flush with awkwardness.

“Okay…well, that was unexpected—”

And then Blaine’s hand moves on its own accord, smacking Sebastian right across his face. The taller makes a howled noise, mostly out of surprise than anything else, and his hand settles along his cheek.

“Jesus, Blaine, what the _fuck.”_

He blinks, swallowing the word ‘sorry’, “Well I see your hands aren’t frozen off so, really, would it _kill you_ to call me back when it’s snowing like that?”

Sebastian smirks softly and rubs the skin along his jawline, his skin beginning to tint pink just slightly. “My phone died.” He pulls it out of his back pocket, pressing the home button in case he needs to demonstrate for when Blaine doesn’t believe him. “I was going to stay at work and charge it but I wanted to get home…because I knew you’d be spiraling.”

Blaine swallows, crossing his arms over his chest. His anger is quickly dissipating, all of the things he wanted to say to this argument hiding underneath blooming embarrassment.

“I’m…I’m not spiraling.” He mumbles, squeezing his own sides and avoiding Sebastian’s gaze. His boyfriend snorts in disbelief and takes a step forward to tug him into his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbles, forcing Blaine’s arms down so he can hold him closer. He presses a kiss to his temple, nose brushing against wild curls.

He finally feels himself begin to relax, muscle by muscle and bone by bone, closing his eyes as he leans into his boyfriend’s broad chest. He slips his arms around him, hands sinking underneath his dress shirt to feel the skin of his back.

“You’re an asshole.” Blaine mutters, voice mostly muffled against his collarbone.

Sebastian smiles, he can feel it even though he can’t see him, “I know, but at least I’m your favorite one.”

The shorter rolls his eyes but he doesn’t let go of him for at least another few minutes.


End file.
